Start Again To Protect
by AdjectiveProne
Summary: It was his fault. If only he could of ru n faster then maybe, just maybe he could of saved her life. He had vowed to prot ect everyone. He had failed. Why? Rukia dies in battle after Ichigo manages to w in, and he decides to stat over so he ca n save everyone. And this time he refuse s to fail. Ichiruki,Ishihime, ect.
1. Forever In My Arms

She was sprawled in his arms, eyes open, as if she was daydreaming. The dreamy look in her eyes was not, in fact caused by absent-mindedness, but it was the harsh look of death. He could feel the blood seeping between his fingers as he held her crumpled form. Rubble and dust surrounded the two figures that were perched on top of a dry hilltop that shuddered under the weight of the man's guilt. He raised a hand to his face, shielding his grimy and bloody forehead. He allowed himself to cry. The tears stung and felt unknown in his golden eyes. His tears mingled with the gore on her torn chest.

It was his fault. If only he could of run faster and maybe, just maybe, he could of saved her life. He had vowed to protect everyone. He had failed. Why?

The world gave was into dizzying black and infinite nothingness. The world seemed to creak and groan like an abandoned house. The sky became shapeless, morphing into something that most definitely wasn't blue. He would let himself disappear. If only he could escape his world of murder and hatred. He let out a strangled scream. There was no end. No matter how many times he cried and let darkness invade him, no matter how many times he abandoned everything, there was no end. Her eyes were so blank, so unaware that the man who held her and cried was the very man who had let her die. He was the reason her breath fell short and released its last hope into the sky.

Was it raining? Was the world warm with the greeting of the sun? Was he still on the hilltop? Was he alive? Was he dead? He couldn't tell. Surely this was the end. This had to be the dead end he cried out for. Surely he was at the gates of death. And with one more desperate hope of salvation, he spiraled down into a hell of nothingness.


	2. As We Are

**A.N.=**

**My apologies for being so late with this, I was procrastinating and my computer is a b!%$h. On to the note, this chapter (and possibly others) will contain quotes, references or ideas from other anime. This is one such chapter, with a little Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood as well as Alice In Wonderland thrown in. It's all right I you haven't seen FMA:B (although I HIGHLY recommend it), but the reference is there for any who get it. I also highly doubt any of you don't know what Alice In Wonderland is. If you don't, I suggest you fix that. Quickly.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, Alice in Wonderland or FMA:B. Their mangaka's and writers do, got it?**

The world was that shade of bright white that makes your eyes scream _oh hell no!_ Ichigo was glad that there were no colors. Colors are for the dead. His eyes were glassy and untouchable, hiding behind his tangerine hair as if afraid. He, however, was not. He felt nothing but suffocating guilt and clenching grief.

Before him was a gate. It was a tall Japanese rice paper door carefully decorated with smooth brushes of paint weaving through its surface. It showed a picture of an elegant woman carved of dark, thick paints extending her arm to a watery figure of cerulean blue. Colors. What unnecessary things, colors are. Black sakura blossoms graced the papery sky. Silver chains created an x of stability over the seemingly fragile portal. He wondered how the heavy paints and sturdy chains did not break the delicate rice paper, or perhaps it was more durable than it seemed.

In front of the graceful gate was a figure, undistinguishable against the white world. Dark paint splatters and hiding shadows marked its shape, showing an ambiguously gendered human made of light and nothingness. A gruesome smile spread upon its empty face.

"Well well, what do we have here? A Shinigami, it would seem." Exclaimed the strange blank person with great excitement in its voice.

"Who the hell are you?" came his, what would have been in normal circumstances, been a rude reply.

"I'm so glad you asked! I am what you might call The World or perhaps The Universe or perhaps God or perhaps Truth or perhaps Everything or perhaps One, but I am also you! I rule many dimensions, and I must say, you have made yours quite interesting!" Ichigo was silent. "Shinigami do a great deal for me, I'm eternally grateful. As a reward for keeping those conceited humans in line, I will grant you what you desire. I am Truth, after all!" the being said with a cackle.

"…Anything at all? Even bringing someone back from the dead?" Asked Ichigo with great carefulness in his voice. He didn't trust the strange creature, but what choice did he have? He had to save them. He would save them all.

"But of course! Anything you desire," the form raised his shadowed hand, pointing at Ichigo "shall be granted!" Ichigo didn't hear the sounds, but he could tell the man, or woman, whichever, was laughing, as if the very thought of his wishes being granted was absolutely hilarious.

Ichigo grimaced, head bowed.

"Then what will it be? Riches? Fame? Immortality? Oh, well I can guess what kind of man you are! You want a world without war! Or maybe eternal happiness for the one you love!" again, the feeling of laughter echoed through out the white endless halls.

"I want it to stop. C-Can you bring all of them back? I want to live in the human world. I want the shinigami to be able to live normally. In the human world, like everyone else. I want t-to give them a chance. No more monsters. No more shinigami. Dead souls could just escape. I want to live in a world where the people I love won't get hurt. C-can you do that?"

"But of course! I assume you want your own powers to just disappear as well. In any case, are you ready?' the creature exclaimed with another awful grin. He received nothing but a small nod.

" One last thing. Have them all forget me. I-I don't want to keep hurting them"

Suddenly, everything seemed to rock and sway. Ichigo felt himself lose his balance. And he plummeted down. Blackness seeped around him. Around him floated miles of shimmering silk red ribbon. Torn butterfly wings, substitute shinigami badges, snowflakes, hollow masks, cerulean raindrops, and manga pages spread out around him. He couldn't tell if he was right side up or right side down. The mass of seemingly random object went the opposite direction. He fell for what felt like hours. Until suddenly he stopped. He hit the stony ground with a grey thud. There he was. Tokyo. The cement sidewalk was a familiar feeling to him, surprisingly comforting; after all, he had been falling for so long.

He was wearing a bleak blue hoodie, dark jeans and black boots. He slowly sat up. No pedestrians walked the street. He was sure that if they did, parents would grip their children's hands and tug them along like trains on tracks right past him. He could just hear them saying to their offspring, _don't talk to strangers, sweetie! _And walk off, staring at him with a mixture of fear and confidence, as if to say _hurt my child and I will kill you. Maybe._

Ichigo stood up and started walking. He didn't have any money, and he had no one who even remembered him, in Tokyo or otherwise. Where the hell was he supposed to stay?

Part of him was glad that they could live without fear. He could protect them now. However, the other part wanted to stay in his old life. It was too late now, everything that had been worthwhile was gone anyways.

He reached into his worn hoodie pocket. From it, he drew around 9,000 yen, (possibly enough for a really cheap motel room.), his shinigami badge, a beat up cell phone, and a handwritten note. On the note was written;

_15 Shiroyuki St. _

_Miss Rukia Kuchiki_

_I'd wish you luck, but I don't believe in that kind of thing._

_-Truth _


	3. Protector?

**A.N.=**

** Hello! So I'm on break now, so I should be able to write some more. I'm not sure what to do after this chapter. I just know I'm going to get a major case of writers block. Enjoy!**

** Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo. If I owned Bleach, IchiRuki would be very, very canon.**

Rukia Kuchiki confidently walked through the mostly deserted side streets of Tokyo. She looked like a shrunken adult, with a professional air, but childish attitude. The orange and cream lights of shabby apartment buildings cast a glow on her dark hair. Slightly shady people stepped in and out of shadowed alleyways, eyes hiding behind masses of grimy hair. Rukia just kept walking, right past them.

She sighed heavily. A decent amount of stress was piling up on her. She had just recently moved to Tokyo, and her new apartment was filled with unopened boxes of bowls, alarm clocks, photo albums and other slightly important items. On top of that she had college to attend, homework to do, dance class on weekends, and a job as a waitress at a café at night. Her brother had been less than happy at her living arrangements and profession, but she hoped he wouldn't interfere. He was busy enough as it was. He always was.

She sighed again and fiddled with her strawberry earrings. She had found them under the stairs in her new apartment the same way you find the landlord's stash of candy or your brother's picture of his girlfriend in his drawer. She had, of course, cleaned them and decided she liked them.

She finally reached the end of the stretch of street that was perfect for shady characters, and turned onto Shiroyuki St. Weirdly enough, it was better than that last road, but it wasn't exactly for the rich. As usual, the tidy white apartment buildings were squished together, sakura trees scattering their pale pink satin petals into the chilly winter wind. She started down her street until she reached her house and dug her key from her purple canvas bag on her shoulder. She tromped up the clean wooden steps, throwing her dance shoes to the side. She had her first day off work since she had gotten the job. She was determined to clean up.

She started to her room, which was completely empty besides a made futon and a cardboard box of clothes. Rukia had lived in her brother's mansion outside of the city her whole life. She knew her way around, but that's a very different thing then living there. She tugged off her sweaty dance clothes and pulled on a pair of grey sweatpants and a yellow T-shirt and exited her blank-canvas room.

She grabbed the nearest box and attempted to rip it open, but packing tape is not easy to tear, if you were wondering. She sighed for the third time and dragged herself into her tidy but empty kitchen to retrieve a knife. She had lived in that apartment for over two months, yet she still wasn't unpacked.

_ Oreru_

Ichigo just started walking. He wasn't really sure where he was headed. He eventually stumbled and shuffled his way to a little convenience store. He pulled a soft newspaper, heavy with inked black-blue words from its stand in the corner. First he checked the year. He let out a lavender breath he hadn't noticed he was holding. It blew his hair from his eyes quietly. The year hadn't changed. He closed his eyes in relief. He wasn't so sure what he was so afraid of. Next, the date. January 2nd. The exact day it had been in the other life. He pulled out the sheet of paper and stared. Rukia's name seemed to stare back. He walked to the front counter.

"Excuse me sir, but do you know where Shiroyuki street is?" he said trying to act completely normal, which is hard when your hair is the exact color of an aptly named round fruit.

"Of course. It's about four blocks from here. If you walk down this street to the right for a little ways, you'll see a street sigh for Amehana walk down there until you see Shiroyuki." The man said. He scowled when he saw Ichigo had left without buying anything.

Ichigo wandered about the streets. He now knew where Rukia lived, so he would have a place to go if he got really desperate, but he wanted to stay away from her. If he was far away, he couldn't hurt her. That was how he thought of it at least. He figured that finding a place to stay for a night wouldn't be a problem. Finding random food would be much harder, so he decided to spend his money on food instead.

Ichigo looked up at the velvet black sky. Wisps of silvery tears of rain clouds polluted the dark sky. How ironic. God really did hate him after all.


End file.
